


you look so tired

by babybirdblues



Series: Magi drabble/ficlet set [2]
Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crime, Gangs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybirdblues/pseuds/babybirdblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alibaba wasn't out of his father's -- not to mention the 7th Precinct's -- grasp for long before he was arrested again.  Now, it just seems like he's finding new ways to 'ruin' his life.  (At least Sinbad and the Sindria Corporation cared, a bit, for their people.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a prompt list, one of the prompts turned into Alibaba calling random numbers from jail.

This is the fifth number he’s tried.

Normally, he wouldn’t have to call this many times.  (Normally he wouldn’t be in this situation.)  

“Make it quick, please and thank you, Alibaba.”

He throws a grin -- more of a grimace, really -- over his shoulder.  “Of course, of course.”

But it’s the last chance he’s got and there’s only so much Alibaba can do with the limited items he has on hand.  Truthfully, he should give up now.  It’s unlikely anyone will pick up.

“. . . hello?” the voice on the other end is quiet.  She -- and it is a she -- sounds confused and still half asleep.

“Ah!” Alibaba’s so startled he nearly drops the phone.  He fumbles it from hand to hand, desperately trying to get it rightened in his grip.  “Please don’t hang up!”

There’s only the sound of silence in reply.  It makes his heart drop and ice settle in his stomach.  

“All right,” it’s still just as quiet, but it sounds more awake.  There’s a light rustling now.  “Is there something you need.”

“Ah, yes.  I was hoping you could help me out,” Alibaba’s hands are sweating and his pulse is a steady rush of waves in his ears.  “I know it’s a lot to ask.  I do, it’s just-”

“Please just ask me,” she doesn’t sound offended or angry.  Something the first two people Alibaba phoned were (and they had been  _ friends _ ).

“I need you to  _ bailmeout _ .”

There’s quiet.  Both of them breathe, him a bit easier now that it’s been said and her most likely in confusion -- if she even understood the last bit of his sentence.

“You are in trouble?”

“Sort of?  I, uh,” he glances back at Barkak, who is giving him his privacy.  Or at least he’s appearing to give him privacy.  “Well, I’m actually in jail?  The 7th precinct, Balbadd.  I just need some bail money, which I don’t have on me but can totally pay you back once I get it.  I mean I just, I need someone to also sign the papers.  I can’t do that for myself eith-”

“Why did you phone me?”

Why did he phone her again?  Because the first two numbers, people who were supposed to be his friends betrayed him and his family was out of the question?  Because the other two numbers didn’t answer?  Because somehow he laid all his hope in this number?   “I just,  I called any number I could.  I don’t  _ have _ anyone else.”

She snorts.  “I was wondering why you would ask a stranger to pay your bail.”

“My father would, sort of,” Alibaba’s muttering now, slumping against the wall.  “I just would be put on house arrest.  Followed around everywhere I went, never allowed anywhere I wanted to go, thrown back in jail as soon as I did anything he and his ‘proper’ family perceived as wrong.  I had nothing to lose calling a random number, you know?”

She hums.  “One moment,” there’s quiet footsteps and then a crash.

“Er?”

It’s faint but Alibaba can make out some of the words she’s saying, as well of the yelps of multiple others.

“. . . Masrur. . . doesn’t have. . . bail. . . bring him home. . . no freed. . .”

The phone apparently switches hands then.  It’s not her voice on it but an older man’s.  “Hello?”

Alibaba’s eyebrows furrow.  “Er, yes?”

“My name’s Sin.  Morgiana and Masrur are on their way to get you right now.  We’ll have you out and sequestered safely away in no time.” He sounds cheerful enough.  “Now, what’s your name?”

“Ah, I’m sorry!” the slight bow he gives is reflex, and by the chuckle he hears from Barkak it looks a little ridiculous.  “Alibaba, ah, Alibaba Saluja, and thank you.”

“Well, well.  I think we’ll get along just fine, Alibaba Saluja.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alibaba breaks into a house and finds a kid doing the exact same thing -- he's just not as experienced as Alibaba at it.

_ ‘Sinbad is going to be so disappointed in me.’   _ Alibaba can’t help but cringe as he carefully lifts the screen away from the window.  

Sinbad -- head of the Sindria Corporation, a super powerful company with lesser known criminal ties -- had morals.  They were dubious but they  _ were _ better than three quarters of the police that worked under his fath- no Rashid, in the 7th precinct.  One of the morals he had was against stealing from people who didn’t have the means to take care of themselves.

The people who owned this house certainly didn’t seem to.

But while Alibaba had been out, ah, catching up with some old friends, he had heard a few people discussing the old man who seemed to always have money.  There was something wrong there and Alibaba was going to find out what it was.  This was his neighbourhood and he wasn’t going to let his kids get hurt, especially if the old man was doing what Alibaba thought he was.

So, yeah, Sinbad was going to be disappointed in him.  Because he also didn’t approve of anyone going into the unknown alone, which was another thing Alibaba was doing.

To be fair on that part though, everyone else was busy.  He’d tried to call them -- they just brushed him off.

(He won’t find out until later that they were preparing a you’ve-made-it-a-month-with-us-slash-it’s-your-birthday party for him.)

“Aha!” Alibaba glances around guiltily as he lets out a cheer.  The stupid window was better secured than it looked.  But it was free now.  It was just a matter of getting into the house without breaking anything.

Five minutes later, and grinning triumphantly Alibaba is standing in an updated living room that doesn’t fit the house.  That sixty-inch television certainly doesn’t belong, neither does all the leather furniture and - standing in the doorway leading to, the basement apparently -- the stairs head down -- is a younger kid with long hair (at least it’s braided).  At least he’s dressed in dark clothing but still.

“Oh fuck,” it’s muttered under his breath but apparently the other kid heard him.  Alibaba’s not sure how, but that might just be the rush of adrenaline and the pounding of his heartbeat.  He’s also fairly sure the kid’s wide eyes are mirrored in his own.

The kid opens his mouth but --

“No!” it’s not shouted not really.  The waving arms and slashing motions probably help.  “Do you want to wake anybody who might be in the house?”

“No,” it’s barely audible even as the kid moves carefully across the living room.  “I, uh, you don’t live here?”

Alibaba rolls his eyes.  Because, seriously?  “No, no I don’t.  I think we’re robbing the same house.”

Long-haired kid makes a face at that.  “I’m not robbing it!”

“Quiet!”

“I’m just trying to find some documents.  These people hurt my uncle and I want to make them pay for it.”

Okay, so the kid has a pretty good reason to be snooping except not.  Because if they hurt his uncle then they obviously expected retaliation in some form, especially if money is changing hands.

“Was it a hit?” Alibaba and the kid are leaning close together now.  It’s easier to hear.  “Or did he know they were doing something?”

“I don’t know,” and now the kid looks unhappy.  “I was hoping to find out.”

Yeah, okay.  They’re getting out of here.  “We’re leaving.  We can come back lat-”

“Oh I don’t think so,” the voice startles Alibaba so much that he goes for cover, dragging the kid with him.  It’s the only thing that saves them.  “Stay still you fucking brats, I want to say you were thieves and I just acted in self defense.”

But that’s not happening.  Alibaba’s survived worse, dealt out worse and there’s no way this man is going to make him break a promise.

Somehow he manages to hit the man in the face with a piece of something off the table.  It gives them the precious seconds they need to get to the front door.  Another shot rings out just as the kid’s opening it.  Alibaba thinks he feels it hit his side, but he’s unsure.  You can never be sure of things when you’re in situations like this, when your adrenaline is going through the roof.

All he knows is he has to get them  _ away. _

“Mister!  Mister!  You’re bleeding pretty badly!” the kid looks shaken, like he’s never seen blood before.  Probably hasn’t.

“Don’t worry,” Alibaba’s doing that enough for the both of them.  The old man could have followed them after all. “We just need to get a few blocks and I’ll call my family.”

Alibaba doesn’t remember calling Sinbad or the others.

What he does remember are Ja’far and Rurumu’s lectures a week later.

**Author's Note:**

> The drabbles under the title 'you look so tired' are all in the same AU.


End file.
